Who holds
The crippled one for his limp
Dagger in crystallized hands,
Drawn around the glacier
That be his groin?

Something instead to please,
Something to his mouth
Waters for the taste in the erotic
Woman, who lays in the ice.

She quivers for the strain
From all others, who left the stain
Dried among the moss,
As pale hues her face’s loss.

For first months to the melt
In all of the southern arctic
To die,
He kisses her upon the pink,
Letting loose sweet cries.

A dance,
A heavenly entrance
To where fevers fold within flesh,
As skies rain their butter and nectar
To a parted, red mouth.

Lived among sin
For frost to her skin,
Here love holds its bite down
Melting her to a radiance,
Not once more frozen
In improper hands.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s